Commander Arxa leads Kaylah and his soldiers out of the square. I trail behind, and Kaylah motions me back. “Stay here, Zivah. Tonight is your night.”

But I ignore her, and she can’t afford the time to argue. I would be no friend at all if I let her go alone with these soldiers.

The commander stops in front of a house at the edge of the village and throws the door open to reveal three soldiers lying on the ground, their hair damp from sweat. One moans. Another turns his head from side to side as if searching the room for something. They don’t seem to notice us.

“How long have they been like this?” Kaylah asks. She steps closer, but Arxa puts out an arm to block her.

“Go no closer, Healer, until you see them more clearly.”

Kaylah pauses, puzzled, but then our eyes adjust to the darkness. Not much moonlight comes through the doors or windows, but enough to illuminate the soldiers in faint gray light. Kaylah sees it first, and her gasp rings in my ears. The soldiers’ arms are covered with large patches of discolored skin, patterned like the spots of piebald dogs or horses. The spots are bruise colored in the darkness, but if they were illuminated…

Kaylah draws a shaky breath. “I understand, Commander. I need light.”

Dread gathers in my gut as Arxa delivers the order and a soldier comes bearing an oil lamp. Kaylah carries it toward the sick soldiers, though she stops a good distance away. One cries out and throws a hand up over his eyes. Now, with the lamp, we can clearly see that the marks are large and bright red.

“Rose plague,” I whisper. Words that no healer ever wants to hear.

Next to me, Kaylah nods grimly. “These soldiers must be quarantined right away.”

Before she finishes speaking, another Amparan soldier runs up and salutes the commander. “Two others have developed a fever, and another seven are feeling unwell.”

Kaylah’s jaw sets, and her voice takes on an authority that rivals Arxa’s. “Round up your soldiers, Commander. They must all be checked.”

Arxa fixes his eyes on her for a moment, then gives a brisk nod. He steps out and addresses the soldier that just arrived. “Gather everyone. Line them up in front of this cottage.”

He steps through the doorway, and I follow behind him, my mind swirling from the news. Rose plague kills three out of four in a matter of days, and there is no cure. My skin crawls at the thought of those three feverish men inside the cottage. How many others have fallen ill? Who among the village has already contracted the disease from them? What would the empire do to us if Amparan soldiers died in our care?